When you ask about my descent -I'm from here since my birth year,For centuries we have sat this groundTis our land, we love it dear.

We’ve lived through war and fireAnd so found ourselves poor and bereft.A hundred years we were enslavedGood fortune had our country left.

Now the schools for our young peopleTell us to look the world around.In our hearts and souls we see hope rising,That from this poverty our land will reboundAnd our fertile soil will nourish and growAll the good things that we will sow.

A new storm has started,

on empty fields a wind is blowing.Burned out farms and schools lay low,Everywhere cinders and ashes grow,The people silenced in wagons lieTo soviet lagiers to suffer and die.

*****

MIEDZA - Ewa Olszewska (Pszczolkowska)

Did you ever walk a path in the fieldsWhen the rye stalks are in flower?Felt the softness of the earsListening to the larks' song power?

And watched the golden wavesOf grain swaying in the breeze,The mornings mists leaving dewSparkling with pollen carried by bees?

Did you feel the blessings of an azure skyAnd tread God’s earth beneath heaven?And felt thankful as you got fedThat a miracle could be just a crust of bread?

*****

Maria Konopnicka

Whatever happens, what good will it do,A foreign soil, a foreign seawhen my entire soul there was formedand there remained,there by my old threshold.

You can travel the lands, you can sail the seas,but the yearning for home will never cease,with incredible memories from the pastwhich your old home evokesThe old beehive ..............